[Pg 47]During the night and storm, the little Mara had lain sleeping as quietly as if the cruel sea, that had made her an orphan1 from her birth, were her kind-tempered old grandfather singing her to sleep, as he often did,—with a somewhat hoarse2 voice truly, but with ever an undertone of protecting love. But toward daybreak, there came very clear and bright into her childish mind a dream, having that vivid distinctness which often characterizes the dreams of early childhood.
She thought she saw before her the little cove3 where she and Sally had been playing the day before, with its broad sparkling white beach of sand curving round its blue sea-mirror, and studded thickly with gold and silver shells. She saw the boat of Captain Kittridge upon the stocks, and his tar-kettle with the smouldering fires flickering4 under it; but, as often happens in dreams, a certain rainbow vividness and clearness invested everything, and she and Sally were jumping for joy at the beautiful things they found on the beach.
Suddenly, there stood before them a woman, dressed in a long white garment. She was very pale, with sweet, serious dark eyes, and she led by the hand a black-eyed boy, who seemed to be crying and looking about as for something lost. She dreamed that she stood still, and the woman came toward her, looking at her with sweet, sad eyes, till the child seemed to feel them in every fibre of her frame. The woman laid her hand on her head as if[Pg 48] in blessing6, and then put the boy's hand in hers, and said, "Take him, Mara, he is a playmate for you;" and with that the little boy's face flashed out into a merry laugh. The woman faded away, and the three children remained playing together, gathering8 shells and pebbles10 of a wonderful brightness. So vivid was this vision, that the little one awoke laughing with pleasure, and searched under her pillows for the strange and beautiful things that she had been gathering in dreamland.
"What's Mara looking after?" said Sally, sitting up in her trundle-bed, and speaking in the patronizing motherly tone she commonly used to her little playmate.
"All gone, pitty boy—all gone!" said the child, looking round regretfully, and shaking her golden head; "pitty lady all gone!"
"How queer she talks!" said Sally, who had awakened11 with the project of building a sheet-house with her fairy neighbor, and was beginning to loosen the upper sheet and dispose the pillows with a view to this species of architecture. "Come, Mara, let's make a pretty house!" she said.
"Pitty boy out dere—out dere!" said the little one, pointing to the window, with a deeper expression than ever of wishfulness in her eyes.
"Come, Sally Kittridge, get up this minute!" said the voice of her mother, entering the door at this moment; "and here, put these clothes on to Mara, the child mustn't run round in her best; it's strange, now, Mary Pennel never thinks of such things."
Sally, who was of an efficient temperament12, was preparing energetically to second these commands of her mother, and endue13 her little neighbor with a coarse brown stuff dress, somewhat faded and patched, which she herself had outgrown14 when of Mara's age; with shoes, which had been coarsely made to begin with, and very much battered15 by[Pg 49] time; but, quite to her surprise, the child, generally so passive and tractable16, opposed a most unexpected and desperate resistance to this operation. She began to cry and to sob17 and shake her curly head, throwing her tiny hands out in a wild species of freakish opposition18, which had, notwithstanding, a quaint19 and singular grace about it, while she stated her objections in all the little English at her command.
"Mara don't want—Mara want pitty boo des—and pitty shoes."
"Why, was ever anything like it?" said Mrs. Kittridge to Miss Roxy, as they both were drawn20 to the door by the outcry; "here's this child won't have decent every-day clothes put on her,—she must be kept dressed up like a princess. Now, that ar's French calico!" said Mrs. Kittridge, holding up the controverted21 blue dress, "and that ar never cost a cent under five-and-sixpence a yard; it takes a yard and a half to make it, and it must have been a good day's work to make it up; call that three-and-sixpence more, and with them pearl buttons and thread and all, that ar dress never cost less than a dollar and seventy-five, and here she's goin' to run out every day in it!"
"Well, well!" said Miss Roxy, who had taken the sobbing22 fair one in her lap, "you know, Mis' Kittridge, this 'ere's a kind o' pet lamb, an old-folks' darling, and things be with her as they be, and we can't make her over, and she's such a nervous little thing we mustn't cross her." Saying which, she proceeded to dress the child in her own clothes.
"If you had a good large checked apron23, I wouldn't mind putting that on her!" added Miss Roxy, after she had arrayed the child.
"Here's one," said Mrs. Kittridge; "that may save her clothes some."
Miss Roxy began to put on the wholesome24 garment;[Pg 50] but, rather to her mortification25, the little fairy began to weep again in a most heart-broken manner.
"Don't want che't apon."
"Why don't Mara want nice checked apron?" said Miss Roxy, in that extra cheerful tone by which children are to be made to believe they have mistaken their own mind.
"Well! well!" said Mrs. Kittridge, rolling up her eyes, "did I ever! no, I never did. If there ain't depraved natur' a-comin' out early. Well, if she says she's pretty now, what'll it be when she's fifteen?"
"She'll learn to tell a lie about it by that time," said Miss Roxy, "and say she thinks she's horrid27. The child is pretty, and the truth comes uppermost with her now."
"Haw! haw! haw!" burst with a great crash from Captain Kittridge, who had come in behind, and stood silently listening during this conversation; "that's musical now; come here, my little maid, you are too pretty for checked aprons28, and no mistake;" and seizing the child in his long arms, he tossed her up like a butterfly, while her sunny curls shone in the morning light.
"There's one comfort about the child, Miss Kittridge," said Aunt Roxy: "she's one of them that dirt won't stick to. I never knew her to stain or tear her clothes,—she always come in jist so nice."
"She ain't much like Sally, then!" said Mrs. Kittridge. "That girl'll run through more clothes! Only last week she walked the crown out of my old black straw bonnet29, and left it hanging on the top of a blackberry-bush."
"Wal', wal'," said Captain Kittridge, "as to dressin' this 'ere child,—why, ef Pennel's a mind to dress her in cloth of gold, it's none of our business! He's rich enough for all he wants to do, and so let's eat our breakfast and mind our own business."[Pg 51]
After breakfast Captain Kittridge took the two children down to the cove, to investigate the state of his boat and tar-kettle, set high above the highest tide-mark. The sun had risen gloriously, the sky was of an intense, vivid blue, and only great snowy islands of clouds, lying in silver banks on the horizon, showed vestiges30 of last night's storm. The whole wide sea was one glorious scene of forming and dissolving mountains of blue and purple, breaking at the crest31 into brilliant silver. All round the island the waves were constantly leaping and springing into jets and columns of brilliant foam32, throwing themselves high up, in silvery cataracts33, into the very arms of the solemn evergreen34 forests which overhung the shore.
The sands of the little cove seemed harder and whiter than ever, and were thickly bestrewn with the shells and seaweed which the upturnings of the night had brought in. There lay what might have been fringes and fragments of sea-gods' vestures,—blue, crimson35, purple, and orange seaweeds, wreathed in tangled36 ropes of kelp and sea-grass, or lying separately scattered37 on the sands. The children ran wildly, shouting as they began gathering sea-treasures; and Sally, with the air of an experienced hand in the business, untwisted the coils of rosy38 seaweed, from which every moment she disengaged some new treasure, in some rarer shell or smoother pebble9.
Suddenly, the child shook out something from a knotted mass of sea-grass, which she held up with a perfect shriek39 of delight. It was a bracelet40 of hair, fastened by a brilliant clasp of green, sparkling stones, such as she had never seen before. She redoubled her cries of delight, as she saw it sparkle between her and the sun, calling upon her father.
"Father! father! do come here, and see what I've found!"
He came quickly, and took the bracelet from the child's[Pg 52] hand; but, at the same moment, looking over her head, he caught sight of an object partially41 concealed42 behind a projecting rock. He took a step forward, and uttered an exclamation43,—
"Well, well! sure enough! poor things!"
There lay, bedded in sand and seaweed, a woman with a little boy clasped in her arms! Both had been carefully lashed7 to a spar, but the child was held to the bosom44 of the woman, with a pressure closer than any knot that mortal hands could tie. Both were deep sunk in the sand, into which had streamed the woman's long, dark hair, which sparkled with glittering morsels45 of sand and pebbles, and with those tiny, brilliant, yellow shells which are so numerous on that shore.
The woman was both young and beautiful. The forehead, damp with ocean-spray, was like sculptured marble,—the eyebrows46 dark and decided in their outline; but the long, heavy, black fringes had shut down, as a solemn curtain, over all the history of mortal joy or sorrow that those eyes had looked upon. A wedding-ring gleamed on the marble hand; but the sea had divorced all human ties, and taken her as a bride to itself. And, in truth, it seemed to have made to her a worthy47 bed, for she was all folded and inwreathed in sand and shells and seaweeds, and a great, weird-looking leaf of kelp, some yards in length, lay twined around her like a shroud48. The child that lay in her bosom had hair, and face, and eyelashes like her own, and his little hands were holding tightly a portion of the black dress which she wore.
"Cold,—cold,—stone dead!" was the muttered exclamation of the old seaman49, as he bent50 over the woman.
"She must have struck her head there," he mused51, as he laid his finger on a dark, bruised52 spot on her temple. He laid his hand on the child's heart, and put one finger under the arm to see if there was any lingering vital heat,[Pg 53] and then hastily cut the lashings that bound the pair to the spar, and with difficulty disengaged the child from the cold clasp in which dying love had bound him to a heart which should beat no more with mortal joy or sorrow.
Sally, after the first moment, had run screaming toward the house, with all a child's forward eagerness, to be the bearer of news; but the little Mara stood, looking anxiously, with a wishful earnestness of face.
"Pitty boy,—pitty boy,—come!" she said often; but the old man was so busy, he scarcely regarded her.
"Now, Cap'n Kittridge, do tell!" said Miss Roxy, meeting him in all haste, with a cap-border stiff in air, while Dame53 Kittridge exclaimed,—
"Now, you don't! Well, well! didn't I say that was a ship last night? And what a solemnizing thought it was that souls might be goin' into eternity54!"
"We must have blankets and hot bottles, right away," said Miss Roxy, who always took the earthly view of matters, and who was, in her own person, a personified humane55 society. "Miss Kittridge, you jist dip out your dishwater into the smallest tub, and we'll put him in. Stand away, Mara! Sally, you take her out of the way! We'll fetch this child to, perhaps. I've fetched 'em to, when they's seemed to be dead as door-nails!"
"Cap'n Kittridge, you're sure the woman's dead?"
"Laws, yes; she had a blow right on her temple here. There's no bringing her to till the resurrection."
"Well, then, you jist go and get Cap'n Pennel to come down and help you, and get the body into the house, and we'll attend to layin' it out by and by. Tell Ruey to come down."
Aunt Roxy issued her orders with all the military vigor56 and precision of a general in case of a sudden attack. It was her habit. Sickness and death were her opportunities; where they were, she felt herself at home, and she[Pg 54] addressed herself to the task before her with undoubting faith.
Before many hours a pair of large, dark eyes slowly emerged from under the black-fringed lids of the little drowned boy,—they rolled dreamily round for a moment, and dropped again in heavy languor57.
The little Mara had, with the quiet persistence58 which formed a trait in her baby character, dragged stools and chairs to the back of the bed, which she at last succeeded in scaling, and sat opposite to where the child lay, grave and still, watching with intense earnestness the process that was going on. At the moment when the eyes had opened, she stretched forth59 her little arms, and said, eagerly, "Pitty boy, come,"—and then, as they closed again, she dropped her hands with a sigh of disappointment. Yet, before night, the little stranger sat up in bed, and laughed with pleasure at the treasures of shells and pebbles which the children spread out on the bed before him.
He was a vigorous, well-made, handsome child, with brilliant eyes and teeth, but the few words that he spoke60 were in a language unknown to most present. Captain Kittridge declared it to be Spanish, and that a call which he most passionately61 and often repeated was for his mother. But he was of that happy age when sorrow can be easily effaced62, and the efforts of the children called forth joyous63 smiles. When his playthings did not go to his liking64, he showed sparkles of a fiery65, irascible spirit.
The little Mara seemed to appropriate him in feminine fashion, as a chosen idol66 and graven image. She gave him at once all her slender stock of infantine treasures, and seemed to watch with an ecstatic devotion his every movement,—often repeating, as she looked delightedly around, "Pitty boy, come."
She had no words to explain the strange dream of the morning; it lay in her, struggling for expression, and[Pg 55] giving her an interest in the new-comer as in something belonging to herself. Whence it came,—whence come multitudes like it, which spring up as strange, enchanted67 flowers, every now and then in the dull, material pathway of life,—who knows? It may be that our present faculties68 have among them a rudimentary one, like the germs of wings in the chrysalis, by which the spiritual world becomes sometimes an object of perception; there may be natures in which the walls of the material are so fine and translucent69 that the spiritual is seen through them as through a glass darkly. It may be, too, that the love which is stronger than death has a power sometimes to make itself heard and felt through the walls of our mortality, when it would plead for the defenseless ones it has left behind. All these things may be,—who knows?
"There," said Miss Roxy, coming out of the keeping-room at sunset; "I wouldn't ask to see a better-lookin' corpse70. That ar woman was a sight to behold71 this morning. I guess I shook a double handful of stones and them little shells out of her hair,—now she reely looks beautiful. Captain Kittridge has made a coffin72 out o' some cedar-boards he happened to have, and I lined it with bleached73 cotton, and stuffed the pillow nice and full, and when we come to get her in, she reely will look lovely."
"I s'pose, Mis' Kittridge, you'll have the funeral to-morrow,—it's Sunday."
"Why, yes, Aunt Roxy,—I think everybody must want to improve such a dispensation. Have you took little Mara in to look at the corpse?"
"Well, no," said Miss Roxy; "Mis' Pennel's gettin' ready to take her home."
"I think it's an opportunity we ought to improve," said Mrs. Kittridge, "to learn children what death is. I think we can't begin to solemnize their minds too young."[Pg 56]
At this moment Sally and the little Mara entered the room.
"Come here, children," said Mrs. Kittridge, taking a hand of either one, and leading them to the closed door of the keeping-room; "I've got somethin' to show you."
The room looked ghostly and dim,—the rays of light fell through the closed shutter74 on an object mysteriously muffled75 in a white sheet.
Sally's bright face expressed only the vague curiosity of a child to see something new; but the little Mara resisted and hung back with all her force, so that Mrs. Kittridge was obliged to take her up and hold her.
She folded back the sheet from the chill and wintry form which lay so icily, lonely, and cold. Sally walked around it, and gratified her curiosity by seeing it from every point of view, and laying her warm, busy hand on the lifeless and cold one; but Mara clung to Mrs. Kittridge, with eyes that expressed a distressed76 astonishment77. The good woman stooped over and placed the child's little hand for a moment on the icy forehead. The little one gave a piercing scream, and struggled to get away; and as soon as she was put down, she ran and hid her face in Aunt Roxy's dress, sobbing bitterly.
"That child'll grow up to follow vanity," said Mrs. Kittridge; "her little head is full of dress now, and she hates anything serious,—it's easy to see that."
The little Mara had no words to tell what a strange, distressful78 chill had passed up her arm and through her brain, as she felt that icy cold of death,—that cold so different from all others. It was an impression of fear and pain that lasted weeks and months, so that she would start out of sleep and cry with a terror which she had not yet a sufficiency of language to describe.
"You seem to forget, Mis' Kittridge, that this 'ere child ain't rugged79 like our Sally," said Aunt Roxy, as she raised[Pg 57] the little Mara in her arms. "She was a seven-months' baby, and hard to raise at all, and a shivery, scary little creature."
"Well, then, she ought to be hardened," said Dame Kittridge. "But Mary Pennel never had no sort of idea of bringin' up children; 'twas jist so with Naomi,—the girl never had no sort o' resolution, and she just died for want o' resolution,—that's what came of it. I tell ye, children's got to learn to take the world as it is; and 'tain't no use bringin' on 'em up too tender. Teach 'em to begin as they've got to go out,—that's my maxim80."
"Mis' Kittridge," said Aunt Roxy, "there's reason in all things, and there's difference in children. 'What's one's meat's another's pison.' You couldn't fetch up Mis' Pennel's children, and she couldn't fetch up your'n,—so let's say no more 'bout5 it."
"I'm always a-tellin' my wife that ar," said Captain Kittridge; "she's always wantin' to make everybody over after her pattern."
"Cap'n Kittridge, I don't think you need to speak," resumed his wife. "When such a loud providence81 is a-knockin' at your door, I think you'd better be a-searchin' your own heart,—here it is the eleventh hour, and you hain't come into the Lord's vineyard yet."
"Oh! come, come, Mis' Kittridge, don't twit a feller afore folks," said the Captain. "I'm goin' over to Harpswell Neck this blessed minute after the minister to 'tend the funeral,—so we'll let him preach."
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1
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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3
cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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6
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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8
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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pebble
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| n.卵石，小圆石 | |
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pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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11
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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12
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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endue
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| v.赋予 | |
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14
outgrown
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| 长[发展] 得超过（某物）的范围( outgrow的过去分词 )； 长[发展]得不能再要（某物）； 长得比…快； 生长速度超过 | |
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15
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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tractable
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| adj.易驾驭的；温顺的 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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controverted
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| v.争论，反驳，否定( controvert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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vestiges
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| 残余部分( vestige的名词复数 )； 遗迹； 痕迹； 毫不 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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cataracts
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| n.大瀑布( cataract的名词复数 )；白内障 | |
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evergreen
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| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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39
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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42
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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43
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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44
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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45
morsels
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| n.一口( morsel的名词复数 )；（尤指食物）小块，碎屑 | |
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46
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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47
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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48
shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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51
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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52
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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dame
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| n.女士 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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humane
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| adj.人道的，富有同情心的 | |
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vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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effaced
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| v.擦掉( efface的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；超越；使黯然失色 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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bleached
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| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
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shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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distressful
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| adj.苦难重重的，不幸的，使苦恼的 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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maxim
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| n.格言，箴言 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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